


Club

by WandaLannister



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Depression, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:24:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7932820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandaLannister/pseuds/WandaLannister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader likes to party...especially after a rough mission. On one such night, she decides to take her long time friend, Steve Rogers along...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because I'm taking a break from Super Soldiers: Reloaded and I cannot shake Steve Rogers out of my head.

The alcohol was _buzzing_ through my veins and I swayed to the music amidst the throngs of people on the dance floor. 

 

The lights were strobing, flashing _bright,_ the music so loud that I could feel the bass _hammering_ against my body. 

 

I didn't even remember how many shots of tequila I had taken. I just knew that it all felt so _good..._  

Letting go of all the worry. _Especially_ after that mission we had just gotten back from in Africa. 

 

It had always been a sort of a post mission coping mechanism for me...partying, getting blackout drunk, dancing...

 

I'd asked Steve to accompany me to the club, since he had always been curious about the _'discos'_ these days. The man couldn't get drunk, which made him the perfect designated driver. Also, since we had been friends for a really long time, he had insisted on coming along this time, for _'protection',_ as he'd put it. And who better to protect me than Captain America himself? 

 

I turned around to look at him, where he was standing at the bar. Around him was a gaggle of girls, each more scantily clad than the next, trying to get his attention. He looked so desperately _uncomfortable,_ it was hilarious. 

 

Also, to be fair, I couldn't blame the girls for wanting to take him home. Steve Rogers was a sight to _behold_ in his black leather jacket and jeans that fit him so well, it bordered on obscene. 

 

I was pulled out of my internal monologue when I heard my favorite song come on. I closed my eyes and let the music wash over me, feeling it seep _into_ me as I swayed and moved in time. I felt a pair of hands on my hips and turned to see a really handsome, dark haired guy grinning at me. 

 

"Hey beautiful, how 'bout a dance?" he asked. I grinned and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him close, my inhibitions dissolving into the alcohol in my veins. _"Sure..."_ I slurred. 

 

We danced, bodies pressed close together, hips gyrating. I was dimly aware of the strap of my dress being slid down my shoulder when Steve suddenly appeared, a look of pure _rage_ on his face. 

 

"Y/N, come on, let's _go..."_ he said, grabbing my hand. 

 

The guy I was dancing with decided to speak up. "Hey, what's the matter, bud? We're just having a little fun, aren't we, beautiful?" 

 

Steve glared at him. "Her name is Y/N and it's time for her to head home. _Now,"_ he growled. 

 

 _Jesus._ What had gotten into Steve? I hadn't seen him this _aggressive,_ except on missions, during combat. 

 

The dark haired guy held up his hands in surrender and let me go. Steve grasped my hand in his and dragged me along with him, out of the club. 

 

"Steve! What's _wrong_ with you?" I exclaimed the moment we were outside. 

 

He scoffed. "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with _you,_ Y/N? That creep had his filthy hands _all over_ you!" he yelled, a wild fury in his eyes. 

 

"Oh, don't lecture me right now, Steve..." I said, walking away from him, teetering on my high heels. 

 

He grabbed my arm and spun me to face him.

"He could have been _dangerous,_ Y/N! He could've hurt you!" 

 

I laughed, realizing where he was getting at. "I can defend myself, Stevie." 

 

"Not in this state you can't! _Look_ at you! You're _drunk!"_ he said urgently. 

 

I giggled. "Oh, my poor _Stevie._ So _protective_ of m-" 

 

I was cut off by his lips pressing against mine. I melted into him, giving into his frantic, _dominant_ kiss. He backed me up against the wall of the alley. It took my intoxicated mind a moment to catch up... _Steve Rogers, my best friend, was kissing me._

 

"What was _that?"_ I gasped when he pulled away. 

 

He had a dark look on his face. "I can't see you fooling around with creeps anymore, Y/N. We're going home and I'm gonna show you _exactly_ who you belong to..." he growled. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Drug abuse (implied) and suicidal thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Depression is something that I have dealt with in my own life. Writing is a release, an outlet for me.

He grabbed my hand and ushered me into a cab. The driver began to protest, considering my inebriated state. "Don't puke all over my seat, lady." 

 

Steve tossed him a hundred dollar bill. "Keep the change. Take us to the Avengers Tower. _Now."_  

 

And we were off. 

 

I stared out of the window at the bright city lights, almost as if I was seeing them for the _first time..._

 

I pulled out a vial of cocaine (that I had bought at some point during my night out) and scooped some of the powder out using a tiny spatula. I was about to inhale the white powder when Steve's hand knocked it out of my hands. 

 

 _"Hey!"_ I slurred. 

 

"Are you _out of your mind?_ Since when did you start taking _drugs,_ Y/N?" Steve asked me, his expression conveying equal parts horror and disgust. 

 

I looked at the driver and caught him staring at us in the rear view mirror. "I don't know if that has _anything_ to do with you, Steven. I like to party, its my thing! That's how I relieve stress. What's so _wrong_ about it?" I tried to explain myself. 

 

His blue eyes blazed with rage. "You party, that's alright. One or two drinks is acceptable...but this is _madness,_ Y/N! This can get you _killed!"_ he said angrily. 

 

 _"Stevie..._ I don't care if I die on the field, during a mission or on the street. It really doesn't matter anymore..." I said. "It's not like _anyone_ will care..." 

 

He went quiet. He knew the things I had struggled with in the past. Depression was one of them. I had tried therapy and medication, but they didn't help much. I immersed myself in my work, which had gotten me recruited to the Avengers. But deep down, the despair lurked around in the back of my mind. Like a perpetual shadow...  It was almost as if I had lost all hope, _until_ I met Steve. 

 

"You think no one will care? Have you lost your mind, Y/N?  _I'll_ care... I don't know what I'll do if I lose you... If I lose you _too..."_ he said, taking my hand in his. 

"Y/N, you were there for me when I returned from being frozen for seventy years. You held my hand and guided me _through and through._ I know you've been struggling...  And I want you to know that I'm _here_ for you, okay?" 

 

I smiled wryly. "That's what _everyone_ says, Stevie. That they'll be there...until they're _not_ anymore..." I whispered. 

 

He looked at me for a long moment, completely silent. And when he opened his mouth to speak when the driver interrupted him. "Here you are, folks. Avengers Tower." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?

**Author's Note:**

> Possessive Steve...  
> You like?


End file.
